After the death of Pope Francis, Augustine’s companion, Robert Francis Prevost, sent a text saying, “I think you’ll make a great Pope.” Prevost responded with, “I am American – I will not be elected.” This belief that an American wouldn’t be viable for the position was common; even Cardinal McKelloy from San Diego voiced his opposition to the idea of an American Pope for the same reason.
Betting platform Kalshi gave Prevost less than a 1% chance of being elected, with only 416 individuals willing to gamble on this unlikely outcome.
Catholic theology suggests that the Holy Spirit plays a role in these matters. Prevost’s unexpected ascent to the papacy as Pope Leo XIV seems to affirm this belief.
How do we elevate this newcomer to a divine status? Rather than asking him to declare God’s presence, we might ponder his inner self. Ancient Etruscan priests interpreted omens through the organs they examined, while today’s media examines every detail they can find.
In the true sense of Catholicism, Leo has an impressive record of quiet engagement across various global perspectives, from grassroots movements to elite circles. He traveled extensively after his election, embodying the original meaning of being Catholic.
Leo’s American roots place him at a crucial juncture in the ongoing global fight for democracy, alongside a nationalism that often contradicts his vision of governance.
Some critics point to church history, noting its past opposition to democracy. Figures like Gregory XVI and Pius IX openly condemned democratic ideals. The Vatican hardly acknowledged the American Revolution, given that the colonies were largely British and Protestant. The French Revolution posed a different challenge, as Catholicism, once entwined with national identity, saw its influence decline during that upheaval.
For many, the Vatican’s attitude toward monarchy and democracy has shifted over time, although some levels of hostility remain. In America, the First Amendment offered Catholics a “free market for religion,” allowing individuals to choose their faith freely. This pluralism leads to a vibrant religious landscape, as opposed to state-sponsored religions which lack competition.
Conservative Americans have criticized Pope Francis for being out of touch, but Leo, being American, might even challenge the president in a democracy debate.
Leo understands the historical treatment of Catholics in America, who faced organized hostility, including from groups like the KKK. Violence had a pervasive presence, personally and socially.
He acknowledges the significance of First Amendment freedoms, stating that Congress should not make laws regarding religious establishment or restrict its practice. This environment of religious freedom has nurtured Catholicism and various other beliefs in America.
The First Amendment highlights the importance of conscience and personal choice. Roger Williams, a figure not widely recognized, championed American conscience and faced punishment for his dissent, ultimately founding Rhode Island as a secular refuge. This laid the groundwork for affirming the rights to freedom of conscience and speech.
Having spent decades as a Catholic priest, much of Leo’s career was shaped abroad, making him somewhat new to many American Catholics. However, the bits I’ve seen of his work are positive. His sentiments resonate with Pope Francis, though few American Catholics might be aware of them.
During Leo’s first speech, one line struck a chord with me: “Evangelization is not about overpowering others with religious propaganda, but about love.” He’s clearly trying to distance himself from centuries of institutional enforcement, advocating love as the way forward—something that might challenge some Catholics and fellow Christians.
Leo may become a significant voice as Christian nationalism gains traction in the U.S., especially amid debates about church and state separation. The late Paul Weillich, known as “Pope Paul,” adeptly reconciled conservative Catholicism with evangelical nationalism, building momentum around issues like Roe v. Wade. In recent elections, a considerable percentage of American Catholics voted for Trump, reflecting a growing alignment with certain political ideologies.
With the name Leo XIV, he recalls Pope Leo XIII, who urged French Catholics in the 19th century to embrace the democratic republic. Now, Leo XIV asks American Catholics, particularly those aligning with Christian nationalism, to uphold the First Amendment’s prohibition of a state religion.
In future Supreme Court cases, we could witness disputes among Christians vying for supremacy, challenging the church-state balance. Prevost’s role in this landscape could defend the freedoms he himself may have struggled against in a less welcoming environment.
Before a conservative Supreme Court, Leo might reiterate his belief that the Church doesn’t stand above the world. As a religious leader, he boldly embraces pluralism, a sentiment he expressed at his inauguration.
Many centuries ago, Pope Gregory VII symbolically knelt in the snow, reflecting the Church’s earlier struggles for power. Now, imagine Pope Leo XIV standing in the U.S. Supreme Court, advocating for his beliefs.
Though Leo XIII is celebrated for his thoughts on labor and democracy, it’s actually Leo the Great (391-461) who famously stood against threats to what remained of Roman authority. This new Leo faces a similar challenge—to defend American democracy from entities that may seek to undermine it. So, will this second Leo prove to be great in his own right?
In a world at odds between the love of power and the power of love, Leo chooses the latter.
